Strongest Deliveryman In The Apocalypse

The desert winds carried silence for days.

After the fall of the B-Rank monster, the convoy advanced without any further incident.

No Plunderer dared approach, no beast crossed their path, and not even the harsh sun seemed capable of breaking the strange stillness that surrounded them.

The B Rank Monster was the most frightening creature around, and after its extermination at the hands of Sobin, all nearby Monsters—and even those far away—knew not to mess with the caravan.

With Sobin at the head, the journey that should have taken weeks, if not a full month, was completed in mere days.

The Scarred Valley, infamous for swallowing expeditions whole, had been reduced to nothing more than a slightly bumpy road. The Riders didn't even need to raise their weapons anymore.

Whenever danger stirred, Sobin swatted it aside before it could escalate.

And so, when the first watchtower of the checkpoint appeared on the horizon, the Riders nearly wept with relief.

The checkpoint was no ordinary outpost.

Built on the very edge of the Association's controlled territory, it was a bustling hub of reinforced walls, mounted artillery, and steady trade caravans. Bright banners flapped in the dry wind, promising safety, rations, and rest.

For the convoy, it meant the end of their duty. The Riders could finally lay down their burden.

The massive gates groaned open to welcome them, and the convoy rolled inside.

Guards waved them through, their eyes widening at the sight of so many crates of rare materials still intact.

The last time such a convoy had arrived without losing half its cargo was years ago.

The caravan stopped in the central square, engines shutting down one by one. The riders dismounted their bikes and crawlers, armor clattering as they stretched sore muscles.

But their eyes kept straying back to Sobin.

He remained seated in Bessie, the old truck idling like a beast at rest. Sobin leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, face as relaxed as if he had just woken from a nap.

Even now, after everything, he carried himself like this had all been routine.

Finally, Jarek stepped forward. This proud C-Rank Rider had been humbled into silence for days, his authority stripped away by Sobin's overwhelming strength.

At first, he was a little frustrated with himself and dissatisfied with his inferior position.

But now? He embraced it!

There truly was no one greater than Sobin—he believed it wholeheartedly.

Now, standing before such a figure of greatness, Jarek bowed low, voice tight with sincerity.

"Rider Sobin… no, Leader Sobin. Thank you. Without you, none of us would have survived."

The other Riders followed, one after another, until the entire escort team stood in a deep bow. Even the convoy guards and drivers, who had watched from afar, knelt in gratitude.

"Thank you, Rider Sobin!"

"Please accept our respect!"

"You carried us through what should have been our graves!"

The square filled with their voices, echoing against the walls.

Sobin scratched the back of his neck. "Hah… you're making a big deal out of nothing. This was just a delivery."

The Riders only bowed deeper. They didn't believe his modesty anymore. He could claim E-Rank until his lungs gave out, but they had seen the truth.

One man had carried them all through death's jaws.

Finally, Sobin started Bessie's engine.

"Well, I've got other jobs waiting. You guys take care of the cargo. I'll be off."

He shifted gears, and Bessie rumbled forward.

The Riders parted like the sea, bowing as the battered truck rolled past them. Their heads stayed lowered until the truck reached the gates.

And then—

VROOOOM!

Bessie's engine roared, and in a flash, Sobin was gone. A streak of dust and speed blurred out of the checkpoint, leaving everyone coughing in his wake. By the time they raised their heads, he had already vanished into the horizon.

"…He's fast," one Rider muttered, awe in his tone.

"Fast?!" another barked a laugh, half-disbelieving. "That wasn't speed—that was teleportation!"

But their wonder didn't last long.

A chime echoed from their communicators. One by one, the Riders pulled out their devices, and their expressions froze.

A new message from the Association.

[Notice: Rider Sobin (E Rank) has been officially declared a fugitive. Wanted for multiple violations and suspected treason. Any Rider who encounters him is to report immediately. If possible, detain him. Failure to comply will be considered an offense.]

The message hung in the air like poison.

"E-eh…?"

No one spoke at first. Only the howl of desert wind filled the silence.

Finally, one of the younger Riders muttered, "We… we just traveled with a criminal?"

"He saved us. If he's a criminal, then what does that make us? His accomplices?" Another clenched his fists.

Jarek's jaw tightened.

He had been the first to bow, the first to call Sobin 'Leader.' Now, reading the order, he felt torn between duty and the raw memory of the Sandworm and B-Rank monster collapsing like toys.

One Rider, braver or perhaps more foolish than the rest, asked, "Should we give chase? He can't be that far—"

"Shut it." Jarek's voice was cold, sharper than steel.

"But—" The Rider blinked.

"You saw what he did. You saw what he is. Do you really think we'd survive if we tried to fight him?"

The question silenced them all.

Images of Sobin's casual dominance replayed in their minds—the way he had obliterated monsters they feared, the way he had treated a B-Rank as if it were a bug on the windshield.

If they tried to stop him, they wouldn't even last seconds.

Jarek exhaled slowly. "No. We won't chase. And we won't report. If the Association asks, we'll say nothing. Understand?"

Confusion rippled through the group.

"But… why? Isn't that dangerous?"

Jarek's eyes hardened.

"Because if Sobin finds out we betrayed him, he won't hesitate to erase us. You saw his power. You think a man like that won't know who sold him out? I'd rather risk the Association's anger than his wrath."

The Riders exchanged glances, then nodded grimly. It wasn't just fear that moved them—it was gratitude. Without Sobin, they would have been corpses in the sand.

Whatever the Association called him, to them, he was still their savior.

And so, together, they swore a silent pact: they had never met Sobin. They had never seen him. They knew nothing.

The notice would vanish like dust in the wind.

**********

Meanwhile, far from the checkpoint…

Sobin leaned back in Bessie's cabin, one arm hanging casually out the window. The wind whipped through his hair as the truck surged across the dunes.

"Well, that's done. What's next on the list?" he muttered.

The System's voice chimed in, calm and flat.

[Mission two: Eliminate the rogue Plunderer gang operating in the southern wastelands.]

Sobin smirked.

"Plunderers, huh? Figures. I still remember our last run-in with those scavenger scum."

[You mean your ONLY run-in…]

"Same difference!"

Sobin thought back to that moment—the group he'd flattened without effort, the leader he'd crushed without so much as breaking a sweat.

He hadn't thought much of it at the time. Just another nuisance on the road.

But something about the System's wording tugged at him.

"Since it's my only run-in, do you think I'm lacking experience dealing with them? In your opinion, will this next bunch be tougher than the last?"

The System hesitated.

[…You still don't understand, do you? That gang you eliminated before… was the most notorious one in Zone E-45. Their leader had survived dozens of ambushes and wiped out entire patrols. Even C-Ranks avoided them.]

"Wait, that weakling? You're joking." Sobin blinked.

[I do not joke.]

Sobin laughed, shaking his head. "Guess the wasteland's standards are lower than I thought."

Bessie's dashboard lights flickered, and her voice rang cheerfully.

"Master! Will you let me crush these Plunderers too? I love the sound they make when they pop under my wheels!"

"Not this time, girl. You've been doing all the dirty work with the monsters. Let me handle the trash. No need for you to get yourself messy." Sobin chuckled, patting the steering wheel.

Bessie squealed happily, her engine revving like a delighted giggle. "Master is too kind!"

The System, however, only sighed.

[Your priorities remain questionable… but regardless, we are close. Prepare yourself.]

The desert stretched endlessly ahead, dunes rolling like waves beneath the burning sky.

Somewhere beyond them, the Plunderers waited, unaware of the crazy slaughter that was about to descend upon them.

Such pitiful people.

If they knew… they would have run for their dear lives!